


wildly anachronistic

by legendaryguitarman



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Crossdressing, Daddy Kink, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-28
Updated: 2013-12-28
Packaged: 2018-10-29 04:00:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10846047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/legendaryguitarman/pseuds/legendaryguitarman
Summary: chanyeol gets jongin an unconventional gift for christmas and jongin is pretty sure he's not supposed to like it this much. he's pretty sure he's not supposed to like wearing girls' underwear but he does, and that probably says a lot about him, like how he's a fucking pervert or something.





	wildly anachronistic

Christmas is going to be dull as fuck this year, Jongin just knows it.  
  
It’s obvious because most of his band members have already returned home to celebrate with their own families and Wufan’s even left early to fly all the way to Canada to see his mom, leaving the dorm empty with the exception of a few. Jongin doesn’t blame them because he doesn’t want to be stuck here at the dorm with Park fucking Chanyeol either and he knows that that spells out ‘trouble’ in big flashing neon letters. Some of the other guys aren’t too bad—Joonmyeon mainly stays in his room reading ridiculous American teen novels because he abhors anything fun and Jongin generally avoids him like he’s got herpes anyway; Minseok and Luhan usually keep to themselves in their own room, doing things that’s kind of really fucking obvious what with the noises that come out of their rooms every so often, and truthfully, Jongin isn’t particularly eager to join in with them; and Kyungsoo’s quiet most of the time, minding his own business, which sort of defeats the whole purpose of Joonmyeon getting him that ‘social equals success’ book for Christmas. But Jongin has a problem with staying in a near-deserted dorm with Chanyeol, a huge, huge problem, because the thing is, Chanyeol has developed somewhat of an infatuation with him recently.  
  
He doesn’t really know if ‘infatuation’ is the right word; maybe ‘obsession’ or ‘sasaeng fan’ is better. Chanyeol’s been going on and on about how he’s Jongin’s fan on shows, has been acting like a fucking rabid puppy slobbering over his owner every time Jongin is within a ten metre radius of him and turns into a clingy ex-girlfriend when Jongin leaves to take a leak during one of their ten minute breaks. Honestly, it had been cute at first and Jongin would be lying if he said that he hadn’t liked the blatant adoration and attention but it’s quickly become suffocating and annoying. Really annoying. And without Baekhyun or Jongdae here this Christmas to indulge Chanyeol in his stupid jokes and pranks, he’s taken it upon himself to pester Jongin in his boredom and to make Jongin’s life complete and utter hell.  
  
The dorm has that strangely chilling horror movie vibe going on with Chanyeol here, a sort of unsettling silence that hangs in the air like droplets of condensation, and Jongin doesn’t like it one bit. It means that something bad is going to happen and as much as it’s fucking hilarious when it happens to someone else, like that time when they had pranked Tao and he had cried for his mom for ten minutes straight, it’s not so funny when it happens to him.  
  
Cue the ominous music and ghostly apparitions as The Christmas Horror Movie of ’13 starts when Chanyeol bounds up to him as he’s trying to watch television, blocking his vision of the screen. He simply wants to watch his shitty Christmas films and feel shitty about his shitty Christmas in peace and speaking from past experience, Chanyeol being here means that it’s going to be anything but peaceful.  
  
“What do you want?” Jongin asks in the best exasperated mom voice he can muster, complete with the whole critical side-eye glare and frown. Kyungsoo, sitting on the next couch over, joins in with Let’s Kill Park Chanyeol time and looks up from the fashion magazine he’s been thumbing through to click his tongue disapprovingly at the sudden interruption.  
  
Chanyeol sticks his own tongue out at Kyungsoo before he flops down onto the seat next to Jongin, pulling a cushion to his chest. He beams at the apple of his eye and simpers, “Nothing. I’m just bored.”  
  
It’s things like this that makes Jongin sometimes wonder if Chanyeol has ever aged from his fifteen year old self because honestly, Chanyeol is like the most irritating teenage boy ever. He’s always bored and annoying and Jongin swears that he goes out of his way to bother him because no one in the entire world apart from him would wake up at five am just to hide his shampoo and shower gel for a little bit of skinship when he hands them to Jongin after ten solid minutes of searching and mental breakdowns. It’s a bit too much to monopolise his attention but Chanyeol has always been too big and too loud and too _Chanyeol_ with everything he does. And Chanyeol is perpetually horny as if he hasn’t jacked off for ten centuries, the defining feature of the subspecies, Fifteen Year Old Boy, which often leads to him going to Jongin to grope his ass or to breathe down his neck at the most inappropriate times in the most inappropriate places. Then that leads to them fucking backstage in a coincidentally empty changing room that seems to magically appear every time Chanyeol is aroused like he’s a fucking sex magician, or quick sloppy blowjobs in the bathroom during their break. It works though; _they_ work because everyone else knows better than to disturb them when they go off alone together and because Jongin knows he can make Chanyeol come in three and a half minutes flat with his lips stretched prettily around Chanyeol’s thick cock and a mix of saliva and precome dripping messily down his chin.  
  
He also knows that _I’m bored_ is Chanyeol-speak for _Let’s fuck_ and that’s nothing short of irritating. As much as he likes getting fucked by Chanyeol, so much so that it’s probably really gay to admit that he likes having Chanyeol’s cock stuffed up his ass but hey, his heterosexuality had flown out the window that one time when he and Sehun had friend-kissed each other two years during Sehun’s am-I-gay-kiss-me-Jongin-I-need-to-know-yep-I’m-gay phase, he’s not really up for sex right now. He’s not really in the mood to do anything except for mope about and get fat from the frozen turkey defrosting in the sink.  
  
He sighs deeply and inches away from Chanyeol, giving him a look that says, _Fuck off asshole_ in a single eyeroll. Chanyeol follows immediately, scooting closer as if there is a magnetic force of attraction between the two of them, and subconsciously, Jongin knows that he has already given up because he makes no move to shove the older boy away—but he likes to fight. He wants to fight for a bit longer because pushing Chanyeol to the edge and testing the boundary to see how far he will go to push back is always fun.  
  
“Go annoy Joonmyeon-hyung or something. Maybe you guys can, like, roleplay one of his shoujo manga scenes, I don’t know. I’m busy doing something right now,” Jongin says faux-indifferently, flipping through more Christmas films on the television.  
  
“Busy doing what? Being a dickhead?” Chanyeol’s says with this sassy snarky-ass smirk on his face, snatching the remote control from Jongin’s grasp and leaving the channel on some weird documentary about the mating habits of rhinos. Jongin is 99.9% sure that this is some kind of crappy fanfiction foreshadowing device for what is going to inevitably happening in the next five to ten minutes or so, depending on how benevolent he is feeling and how pushy Chanyeol is going to be today. Chanyeol can be very pushy and persuasive when he wants to because he’s always determined to get his way. Jongin can only hope that he’s not going to resort to shitty pickup lines to do it, like something along the lines of _Let’s do it like they do it on the Discovery Channel_ because it seems like such a Wufan thing to do and Wufan is the last person he wants to think about before he sucks Chanyeol’s dick down his throat.  
  
“Wow,” says Jongin. “If anyone’s a dickhead here, it’s you. You didn’t even get me a Christmas present, you dickrag.”  
  
Kyungsoo interrupts midway through Jongin shooting a murderous look at Chanyeol. “Can you guys please take your gay antagonistic flirting elsewhere because the sexual tension is stifling,” he says, and when Jongin flicks his gaze over to him, he shrugs and holds his hands up in surrender. “Hey, I’m just saying. I’m not the one who you’ve got a weird fuck-me-in-the-butt moodswing-relationship with. I just want to read my magazine in peace.”  
  
As Jongin turns to look back at Chanyeol again, Chanyeol’s lips are slowly curving up into a huge grin and his eyes twinkle with either _I’m horny_ or _I’m a horny asshole_ and it’s disconcerting to say the least. Jongin’s intuition tells him that Chanyeol certainly hasn’t forgotten to get him a present but he reassures himself that it’s going to be crap anyway, like an expired coupon for a free cup of bubble tea scrounged off Sehun or one to get his dick pierced at that sketchy tattoo parlour a few blocks away where Jongdae had gotten _his_ dick pierced in an ill-wagered bet with Baekhyun, and besides, nothing can beat the gift Jongin’s given him. Jongin always gives the best presents. For Baekhyun, he’s gotten a coupon for a free blowjob, which is a pretty damn good present because he gives pretty damn good blowjobs, and for Chanyeol, he’s gotten the gift of letting the other boy bask in his presence.  
  
“Aw, is that why you’re pissed?” Chanyeol teases, grinning. Jongin wonders if homicide and-slash-or maiming someone is still illegal at Christmas. “But I did get you something! Want to open your present?”  
  
“…Fine,” Jongin agrees grudgingly because as much as he knows Chanyeol’s gift is predictably going to be either Michael Jackson related or dick related (or, like, a limited edition Michael Jackson signed dildo), he’s still a little bit intrigued. Plus, it’s Christmas and Christmas is only good for three things: a) getting wasted, b) getting kissed underneath hanging mistletoe, and c) getting presents; and presents usually meant money or sex toys. He’d already done the first two with Sehun and Chanyeol respectively, getting shitfaced on the day before Sehun had left to visit his family and then stumbling out of his room, drunk, straight into the chest of a sleepy Chanyeol, who had pointed at the mistletoe hanging above their heads and kissed him like that was a valid excuse to do so. Jongin would’ve been totally fine with Chanyeol kissing him because he likes him instead of conforming to society’s stupid festive social conventions because the truth is, he really likes Chanyeol too.  
  
Here’s the thing, and it’s totally embarrassing to admit: Jongin likes Chanyeol. He doesn’t like Chanyeol like how he likes Sehun, not in the friend-way, the let’s-suck-each-other-off-with-no-strings-attached-way, but he likes Chanyeol in the _like_ like way, the type where if maybe Chanyeol does something about his loudness and obnoxiousness, then Jongin might even love him in the let’s-suck-each-other-off-with-cute-dates-attached way. They’re not exactly exclusive to each other, per se, because occasionally, Jongin likes to suck Sehun’s cock (Fact of the Century: Sehun has a great dick) and Tao isn’t too bad in bed either—he likes screwing around with Chanyeol the best though. He likes how Chanyeol’s got this carelessness about him, this contagious sense of freedom and a kind of screw-it-all-let’s-fuck mentality that’s really fucking hot. Jongin likes how Chanyeol marks him, likes how he bites hickeys into his skin right over his clavicles because he doesn’t really care if anyone sees them. Likes how he nods complacently when Joonmyeon reprimands him yet again for being ‘too obvious’ with skinship, which is just a nicer way of putting _Stop groping Jongin’s ass in public_ , and he likes how later that night Chanyeol purposefully sucks more bruising hearts and lovebites into Jongin’s tanned skin so the marks never fade away and they’re as permanent as they can be. Sure, Chanyeol’s annoying sometimes and he pisses Jongin off more than he doesn’t but Jongin still really likes him despite all that. He’s even willing to go so far as to say he likes Chanyeol more than he likes chicken.  
  
But there are more pressing matters at hand than having an internal debate about whether he likes his friend more than he likes chicken and he watches as Chanyeol’s grin falters for a second, hesitating and furtively glancing around. He doesn’t think much of it but Kyungsoo cocks an eyebrow at Chanyeol and he coughs suspiciously. “Not here though,” he says. “Not out here. Let’s go to my room.”  
  
“Don’t forget to take a picture so we can how Jongin’s mom what a great Christmas he’s having here!” Kyungsoo calls as Chanyeol gets up onto his feet. Jongin has the faintest feeling that Kyungsoo knows what Chanyeol’s gotten him and being the little shit that he is, he’s subtly mocking him for it with his stupid eyebrow raises and snarky comments.  
  
Heaving a sigh, Jongin flips him off and follows Chanyeol out of the door towards the elder’s room, dragging his feet as he walks. “What, did you get me, like, fucking uranium or something?” he asks as he enters Chanyeol’s room into a mess of clothes, Lego pieces and candid photographs of Dara scattered all over the carpet, pointedly ignoring the sounds filtering out through Luhan’s walls. “Actually, that’s probably expecting way too much from you. I bet you’ve gotten me, like, a free fuck. That’s a really shitty present, just sayin’. Also, it’s plagiarism because I’ve already given one to Yixing-hyung, so.”  
  
“I’m sure that you’d love my cock as a present but don’t you already have it?” Chanyeol says, flashing him a smile.  
  
“Sehun’s got a bigger cock than you. I’d rather have that.”  
  
Chanyeol frowns. “I get the feeling that he wouldn’t be too happy if I sliced his dick off. And besides,” he says loudly, “I’ve gotten you something even better than his and my dick put together. You’re gonna love it.”  
  
It’s probably a given that Jongin’s not going to like it because everything that comes out of Chanyeol’s mouth is a huge fucking lie. He tentatively sits down on Chanyeol’s bed as a box wrapped up in red paper with a fancy ribbon stuck on top is pushed into his hands, the mattress shifting slightly as Chanyeol sits beside him, clapping excitedly like a demented seal.  
  
“Merry Christmas, Jongin! Open it!” he says eagerly with the anticipation of a sixty year old man getting a hip replacement. Chanyeol’s eyes are unsettlingly focused on him as he stares down at the box in his lap, pausing for a moment before reaching down to pluck the ribbon off and peel away the paper.  
  
In the span of point-three seconds, Jongin has one of those moments where the whole world comes to a stop and all he sees is the opened box in his hands. Chanyeol’s stupid fucking voice rings in his ears, an obnoxious _You’re gonna love it_ reminding him just how much Chanyeol bullshits and how his mouth is actually a malfunctioning toilet with all the shit he spouts.  
  
“…It’s a skirt,” Jongin says blankly. “It’s a skirt and a pair of panties. You got me a skirt and fucking panties for Christmas.”  
  
He lifts the clothes out of the box, holding them up to the light to inspect them because he still can’t fucking believe Park Chanyeol has bought him _a skirt and fucking panties_ for Christmas. The entire thing fucking stinks of Sehun because this is the kind of shit Sehun pulls on him all the time, except that even Sehun has a limit as to how kinky he can be and Chanyeol doesn’t. The panties are black and lacy with a frilly trim and a ribbon decorating the centre and the skirt is very, very short with ruffles, so short that it probably barely reaches his mid-thigh, if not higher. He gapes at them, the light shining through the translucent material to cast patterns on his face.  
  
“Aaaaaaaaand that’s what you missed on _Glee,_ ” Chanyeol says. He’s got the biggest grin on his face, one that Jongin just wants to slap right off. With his dick, maybe. “Do you like them?”  
  
“I literally do not know what to say. I hope you’re not gonna get me a fucking tampon for my birthday,” Jongin says, letting out a short, incredulous laugh. He dumps them on the bed because he thinks he’s going to have an aneurysm if he holds onto them any longer. “Skirt. Panties. What the fuck is wrong with you, Park Chanyeol?”  
  
“I’m guessing you like it. You’re very welcome, Jongin,” says Chanyeol. “Maybe you should try them on? If it looks good on you, you can keep them.” The sexual undertone in his words is painfully obvious and Chanyeol’s giving him that stupidly sexy smouldering gaze that has Jongin thinking twice about the clothes in front of him.  
  
He gives Chanyeol a withering look as he unwillingly picks the skirt up. Is it worth sacrificing his dignity for a couple of rounds of awesome sex? If it’s with Chanyeol, then yes, he’ll reluctantly admit. He stands up and makes to go to the bathroom to change but Chanyeol calls him back with a yell of his name.  
  
“You forgot this,” Chanyeol says, letting the panties dangle from his index finger, and Jongin huffs irritably before he stomps back over to grab the fucking panties and to destroy his pride in the name of having really fucking great sex. “Where are you going? Change here. It’s not like we’ve not seen each other naked before.”  
  
Jongin bites his lip. This is different. Usually, it’s just quickly changing between performances so they barely even have any time to compare dick sizes, or it’s him taking his clothes off instead of putting them on, and he’s not entirely comfortable with the whole situation yet.  
  
Finally, he says, “Just…turn around, okay? Don’t look until I tell you,” and Chanyeol nods, obliging as he spins around on his bed and waits patiently.  
  
Jongin shimmies out of his jeans and takes off his shirt for good measure because he’s pretty sure Chanyeol’s going to rip it off in about two minutes anyway. He slips off his boxers and—and _Oh,_ he thinks as the panties glide up his slim legs. They’re really…soft and silky and they feel so nice against the curve of his ass and—  
  
He isn’t supposed to enjoy it this much. He isn’t supposed to like girls’ underwear but he does and that probably says a lot about him, like he’s a fucking pervert or something. The panties fit snugly around his balls and his half-hard cock and he supposes that the bow is kind of cute too and the gift isn’t all too bad. He quite likes how the lacy patterns define the sharp bones of his hips and how the black looks gorgeous against his tanned skin and it’s wrong how turned on he’s getting by this but it’s too late to care because he’s wearing a pair of fucking panties and he’s liking it a bit too much.  
  
“Are you done yet?” Chanyeol asks, his voice an octave lower that makes shivers run up Jongin’s spine.  
  
“N-nearly,” Jongin says and curses himself when he hears his stutter, the smirk evident in Chanyeol’s voice when he replies, “Okay, take your time, Princess.”  
  
He sticks his middle finger up at Chanyeol’s back and mouths profanities at him before he grabs the skirt and slides them up over his calves and firm legs until the band is cinching his waist, the hem fluttering against the skin of his thighs, falling somewhere between his knee and his crotch. It’s short and most likely too indecent for public exposure, not that he’s thinking of wearing it out in public, and the material’s like chiffon, the black panties clearly visible beneath the baby pink translucent material.  
  
“Finished,” Jongin calls and Chanyeol whirls around with startling speed, eyes widening as he drinks in Jongin’s whole figure.  
  
Jongin’s standing there a bit awkwardly, unsure of wear to put his arms and his hands but Chanyeol doesn’t seem to mind. All he seems to care about is the pink on Jongin’s cheeks, flushing up all the way to the tips of his red ears, how supple and soft Jongin’s skin looks underneath the light, how his nipples are perked up from the cold air of the room and how his fingers are playing with the hem of his skirt anxiously. The clothes are a perfect fit and they complement how his legs are curvy and long and slim and Chanyeol unconsciously licks his lips like Jongin is the prey he wants to devour, and Jongin will gladly let him do just that.  
  
“You look pretty, Jongin,” Chanyeol says huskily, his voice like gravel.  
  
“Thank you,” replies Jongin, sucking his lower lip into his mouth again, a nervous habit of his that he’s never managed to get rid of.  
  
Chanyeol raises an eyebrow. “Thank you who?”  
  
And this, this is the Chanyeol Jongin looks forward to every time he pushes Jongin onto the bed and shoves his cock in so deep that Jongin sees stars. Everyone else knows Park Chanyeol, the prankster, the joker and the moodmaker of the group who laughs so loudly at everything that he’s borderline mental, but no one apart from Jongin knows _Jongin’s_ Chanyeol, the boy who likes to gag Jongin with his cock whilst Jongin has two fingers up his ass, getting off from the fact that he’s the one who’s getting Chanyeol off with his tongue and lips. He slides in and out of sex mode so smoothly that it hits Jongin without him even knowing it and sometimes, Jongin forgets that they’re not in private anymore, not in the bedroom together, and finds himself looking at Chanyeol in a whole other way, a way that he isn’t supposed to. Jongin calls his Chanyeol ‘Chanyeol-hyung’ and ‘asshole’ and ‘motherfucking dickrag’ and sometimes he forgets the honorific and it’s just ‘Chanyeol’ but Chanyeol doesn’t really mind because what he really wants Jongin to call him is ‘Daddy.’  
  
“Thank you, Daddy,” Jongin mumbles quietly, feeling hot under Chanyeol’s heated gaze that sets flames alight in Jongin’s veins. Chanyeol drags his eyes up and down Jongin’s toned figure, lingering for a moment longer on the panties where his cock juts out, and the lust seeps through Jongin’s skin into his bones, turning into an uncomfortable itch he needs to relieve with a hand on his cock or a dick up his ass. Jongin swallows thickly, the wait for Chanyeol to touch him unbearable because he just wants to be fucked now; just wants to be taken care of.  
  
Chanyeol smiles and sits at the end of the bed, legs dangling off the side. He curls a finger and beckons Jongin to him. “Come on then, baby,” he says, and it’s almost hilarious how Jongin runs so fast towards him that he nearly trips over his jeans dumped unceremoniously on the floor, knees hitting the edge of the mattress. Chanyeol breaks character for a moment to stifle a snort with the back of his hand and Jongin blushes harder, mumbling an angry _Shut up._ Chanyeol snakes his long arms around Jongin’s waist and pulls him into his lap, and Jongin doesn’t look anywhere except down, too embarrassed to look Chanyeol in the eye. First, Chanyeol makes him wearing girls’ lingerie, and then he nearly trips over his own fucking clothes. What a fucking great Christmas.  
  
“Baby,” Chanyeol coos softly, slipping two fingers underneath Jongin’s chin to tilt his head up so they’re looking right at each other. Jongin tries to turn his gaze down again but Chanyeol’s stare is enrapturing and he kind of can’t right now anyway because Chanyeol has a firm grip on his chin, fingers pressing into his jaw to keep his face looking forward. “It’s okay; are you okay? I’ll kiss your boo-boos better, okay?”  
  
“Okay,” Jongin exhales shakily and it’s a testament to how quickly Chanyeol can switch from Irritating Teenage Boy to Sex God in a matter of seconds to turn Jongin into a quivering mess of jelly with a few stupid breathy words in that stupidly sexy voice of his. Jongin could probably come just from hearing Chanyeol dirty-talk him, listening to Chanyeol tell him how much he wants to fuck his mouth and how much he wants to finger Jongin until he cries, which isn’t particularly sexy although Chanyeol somehow makes it sexy when he says in a voice that practically drips sex.  
  
He knows that Chanyeol can feel his cock pressing into his abdomen through the skirt and panties and he knows that he’s probably going to get punished later for it later but he still grinds his hips in tiny circles, straddling Chanyeol’s thighs, because he needs some friction and Chanyeol isn’t giving it to him. Chanyeol indulges him for a while, lets him do as he pleases, and curls a hand around the nape of his neck to pull him closer, pressing a kiss on his mouth. Jongin whimpers pathetically at the slight contact and he can tell that Chanyeol’s trying not to chuckle by muffling his laughs with kisses. He doesn’t really care though; as long as Chanyeol’s touching him, then he can do whatever the hell he wants to. Except for maybe the super kinky stuff, like pissing on him or something. He draws the line at piss.  
  
Chanyeol bites down on his lower lip, drawing him away from his thoughts, and Jongin sighs into his mouth as Chanyeol sucks on his tongue, hands roaming down his body, feeling the muscles ripple under his fingers, and then sliding them back up again to fist themselves in his hair. Chanyeol licks all the way along the palate of his mouth, along the backs of his teeth where there’s still the faint taste of breakfast, and Chanyeol’s lips are sticky from saliva and the candy he had been stuffing into his mouth earlier. The kissing distracts him, rendering him completely oblivious because he’ll take any skin-to-skin contact, something he’s craving so badly, and Chanyeol takes the chance to manoeuvre his hands down to Jongin’s hips, stilling them with great effort.  
  
“Shit, Chanyeol,” Jongin gasps, fingers shaking as they grip onto Chanyeol’s arms for support and nails digging into his strong biceps. “Shit, why’d you stop?”  
  
Chanyeol gives him a hard look.  
  
Jongin cowers. “Sorry…Daddy,” he apologises and he knows it’s dumb and embarrassing and degrading but if that’s what it takes for Chanyeol to fuck him like no one else can, then so be it. “I’ll be good for you, Daddy.”  
  
Chanyeol rewards him by brushing a hand over the flat expanse of Jongin’s stomach and down to the apex of his legs, slipping a hand beneath his skirt to palm his cock through the lingerie. Jongin’s breath hitches noticeably and tries in vain to stop himself from bucking into Chanyeol’s hand but he can’t, he can’t, he can’t. He can’t stop himself when Chanyeol pushes aside the material at the crotch of the panties with two fingers and rubs them against Jongin’s perineum and Jongin whines loudly. Chanyeol is so close to touching where he wants to be touched and at the same time, he’s not quite there and Jongin needs this so badly that it’s not fair. It’s not fair because Jongin never teases Chanyeol like this—not intentionally anyway because Chanyeol would probably fuck him twice as hard if he did—and it’s Christmas and Christmas is not about making people cry. Christmas is about thinking of other and spreading the joy and Chanyeol not fucking him or jerking him off or sucking him off when he’s wearing fucking panties for him is definitely not spreading the joy at all.  
  
A split second passes between Chanyeol’s hand rubbing his ass and Chanyeol wrapping his arms back around Jongin’s waist to pull him down and then flipping their positions so Jongin is lying flat on the bed, wheezing from the sudden movement and trying to regain his bearings with a brain full of bumfuck when all the blood has rushed down to his cock.  
  
“Pretty,” Chanyeol says, spreading Jongin’s legs to sit between them and swooping down to kiss him again. The fuzzy feeling in Jongin’s gut stirs up again, not arousal but affection, and Chanyeol does nothing to lessen it, deepening the kiss with one hand bracing himself against the bed and the other pinching Jongin’s nipple, silencing his soft moans with his mouth. It goes on for a while, the kissing, whilst Chanyeol’s hands explore his body, running over his skin and the sharp bones that jut out of his collar and his hips, and usually, Jongin would be fine with kissing because Chanyeol kisses like a fucking pro but he’s really horny right now—not from wearing girls’ panties, he convinces himself, definitely not from that—and kissing simply isn’t enough to satisfy him.  
  
“Daddy,” Jongin says, pulling away to whine and paw at Chanyeol’s shoulder, “come on, hurry up, please…”  
  
Chanyeol shakes his head firmly and ignores Jongin’s pleading look. “Don’t you think you have to work for your reward?” he says. “Daddy isn’t going to give you everything you want, you know. You have to work for it.”  
  
“I—I will,” Jongin replies hurriedly because he knows just what Chanyeol wants. Chanyeol wants him to suck him off, wants to shove his cock so far down Jongin’s throat until he can’t even breathe with so much cock in his body. There’s no doubt that he’ll give Chanyeol what he wants because Chanyeol is annoying and pushy and he’s Jongin’s daddy so Jongin has no choice but to give into Chanyeol’s every whim.  
  
(And he thinks that alongside wearing girls’ underwear, he sort of, kind of, really might like it a lot.)  
  
It doesn’t take long for Chanyeol to settle down on the bed in a similar position that Jongin had been in, except that he’s sitting up with his back against the headboard and his knees pulled up to his chest, spread apart. It acts as a shield—so he isn’t vulnerable like Jongin; so he has the power and control, and it turns Jongin on impossibly more, precome staining the material at the front of his panties. Chanyeol tugs his shirt off quickly and discards it off the bed, and off come the jeans and the socks and the underwear, and pretty soon, he’s naked with his cock hard and curved against his stomach, dark and red and leaking a bead of precome from the tip, and Jongin’s mouth practically salivates at the sight before him.  
  
He forgets to ask before he moves of his own accord, getting in position with his legs tucked beneath his torso, body bent with his ass in the air, and dips down to take Chanyeol’s cock in his hand, but Chanyeol holds out a hand to his head to stop him when he’s inches away and so so close and Jongin nearly cries from frustration and need and neglect.  
  
“Good boys ask for permission first,” he says.  
  
“Please, Daddy?” Jongin says, almost begging, and although it’s humiliating, it’s what Daddy wants and what Daddy wants, Daddy gets.  
  
“’Please, Daddy,’ what? What do you want?” Chanyeol says.  
  
Jongin bites his lip and internally thinks, _Oh god, he’s going to make me say it._ Normally, he has no qualms about talking about cocks and asses because he doesn’t know when to fucking shut up, but asking for it is another thing completely and he feels like his tongue has frozen in his mouth. The flush of red creeps further up his cheeks and darkens, and he’s just glad no one else is in the room right now because they’d never let it go if they’d heard him beg for cock.  
  
He inhales deeply, prepares himself, and tries not to think about it too much. Tries to focus on his own want instead, how much he needs this, and the words come tumbling out in stutters as he whispers, “Please, Daddy, I want your cock,” and, “Daddy, fuck me, fuck my mouth with your big cock, please, Daddy,” because for all his insolence and cheekiness as one of the youngest members of the group, he’s still a huge pushover and he gives into Chanyeol so easily it’d be embarrassing if he weren’t gone so far.  
  
Chanyeol stays silent to his begs and instead, in response, he cups Jongin’s cheek softly before guiding his head down to his erection, holding the base with his other hand as he presses it against Jongin’s lips, covering it with a film of precome. Jongin opens his mouth obediently and pushes down immediately, taking as much of Chanyeol’s cock as he can as Chanyeol brings his hands up to fist themselves in Jongin’s hair, and the taste and the weight of Chanyeol’s cock on his tongue has Jongin moaning for more. The sounds vibrate around Chanyeol’s dick as they struggle to escape and that only encourages Chanyeol to start bucking his hips slightly, his cock hitting the roof of Jongin’s mouth every time he thrusts up.  
  
Jongin does it how Chanyeol likes it—sloppy, a bit of teeth dragging along his skin at the top and tongue pressing incessantly into the slit—and Chanyeol tips his head back in pleasure, letting Jongin know how good he is at this. Jongin himself knows he’s good at this, knows that he could make Chanyeol come if he hollows his cheeks and lets Chanyeol fuck his cock into the back of his throat, so he does just that. He sucks in his cheeks, creating a vacuum that has the outline of Chanyeol’s cock jutting out of the side of his face, and on impulse, Chanyeol thrusts his hips forward and tightens his grip on Jongin’s hair. Jongin knows he looks obscene like this, with his mouth full of cock and a skirt that barely covers the globes of his ass, but he doesn’t expect it when Chanyeol slaps his ass, the lewd sound of skin on skin reverberating in the room with a resounding smack.  
  
He jerks forward from the impact, the blunt head of Chanyeol’s cock hitting his throat. Blinking back tears, he digs his nails into Chanyeol’s thighs where he’s holding them to steady himself and gags from the pressure because it’s nearly too much for him, although he keeps on sucking through the whimpers and the pinpricks of pleasure-pain dancing up his spine. He does it partly because Chanyeol’s hand is still holding his head there and partly because he’s so desperate for any contact at this point, pathetically so, that he doesn’t want Chanyeol’s cock out of his body, whether it’s in his mouth or his ass. The ruffled material of the skirt has the blow marginally but as Chanyeol lifts it up, red blooms over Jongin’s tanned skin and Jongin blushes hotly to match the colour of the handprint. He doesn’t need to look up to know that Chanyeol’s grinning right now, proud of his handiwork. At least Chanyeol does have some semblance of kindness left though and Jongin’s grateful for Chanyeol’s soothing hands rubbing over the sore skin and gently massaging the flesh.  
  
“Okay,” says Chanyeol, and his voice sounds absolutely wrecked, a moan threatening to spill through mid-word. “That’s enough. You’ve done well, baby.”  
  
He tugs at Jongin’s hair and Jongin reluctantly lets Chanyeol’s cock fall out of his mouth, replacing it with his hand instead, loosely wrapping his fingers around the shaft, slick with saliva. He gives it an experimental stroke first, sliding his hand up from the base and back down, and Chanyeol releases a shuddering moan, which he takes as a good sign and continues to pull at the cock in his hand, alternating between slow strokes and quick, short pumps, thumb occasionally swiping over the head. The change in dynamics has Chanyeol squeezing his eyes shut from how fucking good it feels, and pride swells in Jongin’s chest, and then Chanyeol sighs and pries his fingers off, lacing them with his own instead.  
  
Given his current state of really fucking horny and a haze of arousal in his mind, Jongin realises with startling clarity that he still hasn’t been given the reward he’s been promised. He looks up through his lashes and blinks away the lingering wetness of tears in his eyes, and Chanyeol pulls him up properly so he’s sitting on his haunches between Chanyeol’s bent legs. They’re level now—Jongin has to tip his head up a bit and Chanyeol down for them to kiss—and Chanyeol takes advantage of their new position, closing the distance between their mouths and going straight to the filthy licking into the Jongin’s mouth and sucking on his tongue. Chanyeol moans because he can taste himself on Jongin as their tongues curl together and Jongin drags red lines up his biceps with his nails in desire, and Jongin moans because Chanyeol does and he sounds fucking glorious like that.  
  
“Do you want your reward? Tell Daddy what you want,” Chanyeol says, breaking away for long enough to mumble against Jongin’s lips.  
  
“Fuck me, Daddy,” Jongin whispers almost coyly, “rough. I want—I want it rough…please, Daddy?”  
  
“Don’t you want Daddy to take care of you?” says Chanyeol. He grins but it isn’t his normal sunny smile. It’s toothy but it’s wolfish and it’s predatory and Jongin’s anticipating what Chanyeol’s prepared for him.  
  
“Rough,” Jongin says firmly. That’s how he likes it. He likes it when Chanyeol presses his fingers so hard into Jongin’s hips as he takes him from behind that it leaves bruises, purpling days later so when he’s being fucked by Baekhyun, all he can think about is Chanyeol and how Baekhyun isn’t Chanyeol and how his fingers are too thin to fit in the violet blotches that Chanyeol’s left. He likes it when Chanyeol thrusts his cock in and maybe forces a finger or two alongside it, making him feel stretched and full beyond belief, and when Chanyeol slips a cock ring on his throbbing dick so he has to work for his orgasm, which makes it feel so fucking much better when it hits. He likes it when Chanyeol’s possessive, the tiny touches on his arm when Kyungsoo’s arm lingers too long on his shoulders and the hickeys he leaves on his neck because he thinks there’s more to it than Chanyeol wanting to rebel against Joonmyeon. He thinks it’s because Chanyeol wants everyone to know that Jongin is his in his heart if not his body, and Jongin wants to be his. The thing is, neither of them have had the courage to admit it aloud and it’s dumb and stupid but Jongin balks every time he tries, so.  
  
“Whatever you want,” Chanyeol says and he wastes no time in capturing Jongin’s mouth in a kiss again. He uses this as a distraction to grope around for a bottle of lube and a condom in the top compartment of his bedside drawer and it’s only when he feels something cool trailing up his thigh does Jongin realise that Chanyeol’s already slicked up two of his fingers with the lube. He doesn’t bother to take off the skirt or the panties and simply flips the skirt up and pushes the material out of the way. This gives him a clear view of the panties and he inhales audibly. Jongin’s cock is so hard right now that he can’t—he can’t handle it anymore and his cock is literally protruding out of the flimsy underwear, parts of skin visible from the material. The front is completely stained with precome that’s leaked out of the head as he grinds against Chanyeol to seek friction and thus effectively ruining a perfectly fine pair of underwear.  
  
Jongin may or may not be secretly hoping that this means Chanyeol’s going to get him another one. Or maybe two. Or three. Four would be fucking great.  
  
Chanyeol reaches behind him and doesn’t even bother to take the panties off, which makes Jongin’s cock strain against it even more. Chanyeol simply pushes the material aside and runs his fingers down the cleft of Jongin’s ass once as a warning before he’s spreading Jongin’s cheeks apart, still red from the slap, and dips a finger to the knuckle quickly, eliciting a strangled moan from Jongin. It’s overwhelming, the stimulation, from prolonged neglect, and it sends a zip of pleasure straight through Jongin’s body that has him collapsing against Chanyeol and his toes curling as Chanyeol brings his finger out and fucks back in with two. He’s going fast but this is how Jongin wants it.  
  
“Baby,” he says into Jongin’s ear, breath ghosting over Jongin’s lobe, “is this rough enough for you?”  
  
Jongin isn’t lying when he gasps, “More.”  
  
Wordlessly, Chanyeol obliges, thrusting three fingers in soon enough, and there isn’t enough lube for three but he does it anyway because Jongin loves the burn and the slight pain of the stretch which quickly dissolves into pleasure. He thinks he likes it because it makes the pleasure so much more satisfying once he knows that he’s worked and endured pain for it. Or maybe he’s just a fucking perverted masochist who loves pain and wearing girls’ lingerie. Either works for him, so long as Chanyeol continues to fuck him like this.  
  
Chanyeol’s fingers drag against his walls with every thrust and Jongin is moaning uncontrollably, muffling them by biting into Chanyeol’s shoulder. Fuck it if he makes Daddy bleed—he can’t help it and it’s all Daddy’s fault anyway. It’s silly that he’s still embarrassed but he’s always been too loud and Kyungsoo is in the living room, probably laughing at him, so he makes his moans as quiet as he can by any means possible, and glances up to see Chanyeol frowning at him. Chanyeol responds by fucking his fingers in harder and faster, and he’s gone past teasing, and crooks his fingers just so so that he hits Jongin’s prostate with every thrust. Stars burst beneath Jongin’s shut eyes and he’d scream out Chanyeol’s name if his voice weren’t so hoarse from begging and moaning already.  
  
As quickly as they come, Chanyeol’s fingers leave and Jongin whimpers at the loss, forcing his hips back down, seeking for something to fill him again but there’s nothing there. He nearly cries but then remembers why Chanyeol’s pulled them out and swallows thickly in his excitement, the obscene sounds of Chanyeol ripping open a condom to roll down his cock and then slathering it up with lube permeating the air. He hears the wet slap of skin against skin as Chanyeol jerks his cock a few times and then he feels the head pushing at the rim of his hole, muscles fluttering around the tip of Chanyeol’s cock. Chanyeol fucks into him in one smooth motion, cock sliding in easily from the excess lube from before that’s dripped out around the edges and from the stretch, and they both moan, Jongin’s loud and a drawn out _ah_ resonating with Chanyeol’s own ragged groan. It shouldn’t sound as good as it does and fuck _Growl,_ Jongin thinks. This should’ve been their title song for the repackage. They sound fucking amazing together.  
  
Chanyeol doesn’t wait before he starts bucking his hips up and Jongin’s forced to adjust whilst Chanyeol’s cock slides in and out, which makes it more difficult, but he’s so needy and Chanyeol’s cock is so addictive like fucking cocaine or something that it barely takes seconds for it to start feeling amazing. Jongin has his legs wrapped around Chanyeol’s waist and is bouncing up and down on Chanyeol’s lap, Chanyeol’s thick cock fucking into him with every downward rock, and the angle is perfect for this, hitting Jongin’s sweet spot every time. He feels like he’s been caught in the middle of a supernova because everything is so so hot and his skin is burning and he feels like he’s on fire from the heat thrumming between their bodies and his arousal and it just feels so fucking good that he wants to stay like this forever. He wants to stay in a perpetual state of being fucked onto Chanyeol’s cock, wants to have pleasure shooting through his veins instead of blood and cock up his ass in his body instead of oxygen because it’s not like he can breathe right now anyway, not with all the cock in his body and all the moans between shallow breaths that has his chest heaving.  
  
He doesn’t quite know what he’s saying now; all he knows is that it’s probably a garbled demand of _More_ and _Harder, rougher, faster, Daddy_ because Chanyeol’s grabbed onto his hips for leverage and is thrusting up with more force, their skin slapping together obscenely. The material of the panties are starting to chafe against the skin of his ass and it’s so tight around his cock but he can’t bring himself to care right now because he feels a familiar heat starting to curl in his gut and he thinks he’s going to cry for the bazillionth time today.  
  
“Daddy, Daddy, please,” he gasps when Chanyeol snaps his hips up particularly hard and he instinctively clenches around Chanyeol’s cock. Chanyeol makes a little growly noise in the back of his throat and continues at this faster pace he’s set, thrusting harder each time, and Jongin knows that it’s a telltale sign that he’s close, really close, and intentionally tightens his walls around him to push him to the edge quicker. It works and soon, Chanyeol’s inhaling sharply and spilling inside of the condom, a spike of warmth inside Jongin.  
  
He waits a moment longer to catch his breath and then he pulls out, leaving Jongin horny and empty and unsatisfied until he feels large fingers fucking back into him to fill the space Chanyeol’s left and fingers pushing down the panties at the front to pull out his cock and jerk it with sporadic tugs, wet with precome. He screams when he comes because the stimulation on his cock paired with three—four?—fingers up his ass is too much, especially when he’s been untouched for so long, and he spurts white strings all over their chests, slumping against Chanyeol in tiredness, still decked out in a skirt and panties and completely and absolutely boneless.  
  
He hardly registers it when Chanyeol pulls the covers over them and snuggles beside him, curling their bodies together. No matter how hard or rough he is during sex, he always takes care of Jongin at the end and that’s what Jongin really likes the best about Chanyeol. He kisses the back of Jongin’s neck and wraps his arms around Jongin’s waist, pulling him as close as he can.  
  
“We should date,” he says suddenly and Jongin can feel him smiling against his skin.  
  
“What,” says Jongin.  
  
“I said, we should date. Just—just us two. And no one else. I don’t want you to date anyone else. I just want you to date me and I want you to just let me fuck you, no one else. Got that?” Chanyeol says. Sex gives you courage—an actual confirmed fact proven by science.  
  
Jongin rolls his eyes and feigns annoyance. They’ve slipped out of sex mode and they’re back into bickering friends-bandmates mode and he pretends to think about it for a second and sighs in mock exasperation. “Whatever, if you say so…Daddy,” he says.  
  
Chanyeol hums softly and buries his nose in Jongin’s sweaty, sex-mussed hair. “Good,” he says, and pauses before he adds, “and you know, that’s the real present, letting you date me. The panties were just a nice added bonus.”  
  
Park Chanyeol should count his fucking stars that Jongin’s too sleepy to shove a knife into his gut right now.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
The next morning, Jongin wakes up in Chanyeol’s bed feeling refreshed and happy and considerably less icky. He’s always been a heavy sleeper so Chanyeol must’ve cleaned him up whilst he was asleep and the realisation makes something warm bloom in his chest and he finds himself unconsciously smiling at the thought of the older boy being sappy. Which reminds him that Chanyeol is not here in bed next to him and it’s a bit cold without another body wrapped around his to warm him up.  
  
He swings his legs out of bed and walks on wobbly limbs, still wrecked from last night, and half-limps into the kitchen after pulling on a pair of shorts and a sweater he had found on the floor, rubbing the sleep away from his eyes. He’s greeted by the sight of Kyungsoo munching on his cereal and laughing about something that Chanyeol, who’s talking animatedly with something in his hand that looks like a sheet of paper, is saying and Jongin waits for a few minutes, simply watching Chanyeol talk because he looks so alive and happy that in turn, Jongin feels happy. When Kyungsoo spots him lurking by the door, he walks in and invites himself to take a seat on Chanyeol’s lap.  
  
“Good morning,” Chanyeol says, beaming at him with a smile that is brighter than the morning sun.  
  
Kyungsoo opts for the less optimistic, “You look like a fucking hobo.”  
  
“Shut up,” Jongin says to Kyungsoo and to Chanyeol, he smiles back and kisses him softly on the mouth, their noses brushing against each other. “Hello, good morning, I like you.”  
  
Kyungsoo pretends to barf. Jongin lashes his foot out and kicks him for real.  
  
Chanyeol laughs. “That’s good because I like you too.”  
  
“This is so disgusting,” Kyungsoo whinges. “God, just because you two had, like, fucking disgusting kinky sex and confessed to each other, it doesn’t mean you can be disgusting out here. I bet Jongin cried when you confessed. Did you cry, Jongin?”  
  
“I’ll make you cry in a second,” Jongin mutters half-threateningly but Chanyeol is distracting him with kisses along his jaw.  
  
“Hey, Jongin,” Chanyeol calls. Kyungsoo tuts and rolls his eyes, mumbling something about _Greedy fucker_ under his breath. “I’ve got something for you.”  
  
It’s the piece of paper he’d been holding earlier. He shoves it underneath Jongin’s nose and Jongin blinks a few times to adjust before he sees something scrawled in really familiar handwriting with really familiar words addressed to a really familiar person.  
  
TO: BAEKHYUN-HYUNG  
  
THIS IS A FREE BLOWJOB COUPON. MERRY CHRISTMAS, MOTHERFUCKER.  
  
EXPIRY DATE: 14/12/24  
  
FROM: JONGIN.  
  
“I’d like to use it,” says Chanyeol.  
  
“Isn’t that Baekhyun-hyung’s…?” Jongin says lamely.  
  
“I’m sure he won’t miss it. Now, about that blowjob?”  
  
Park Chanyeol should count his fucking stars that Jongin likes his cock too much to say no, and when he slips underneath the table and sinks to his knees, Kyungsoo runs out of the room, screaming.


End file.
